Bobby's Meltdown Massages
by Sullen Kitty
Summary: Oneshot. Set during A Person of Interest. Eames finds Bobby in the interrogation room and instead of bringing him lower, tries to help him. A bit fluffy.


Title:

Title: Bobby's Meltdown Massages

Summary: Set during A Person of Interest. Eames finds Bobby in the interrogation room and instead of bringing him lower, tries to help him. A bit fluffy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Alex or Bobby. Yet.

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Alex Eames went into the tiny closed interrogation room and saw her partner, one Robert Goren, slumped over on the table. She sighed and walked across to him, her flats tapping on the tile floor.

She put her hands on his shoulders and began to massage him. As stoic and unyielding as he was, she'd discovered early on what a sucker for shoulder massages Bobby was and exploited his weakness whenever he was upset. It made him feel better. They were what she fondly referred to (he, not so fondly) as Bobby's 'Meltdown Massages'.

His back immediately straightened and relaxed, though he sighed in slight irritation. "Get off me, Eames."

"Why? Christ, your back is riddled with knots."

"Gee, I wonder why?" he said sarcastically.

"Shut up, Bobby."

Alex put more pressure on the man's wide shoulders. If her masseuse had ever put half as much pressure on her as she did to Bobby she'd have had them shot. But Bobby seemed to like it…

Bobby groaned. "Seriously, Eames. You don't have to stay here. It's after five anyway."

"Sure I do. You're my partner, remember? It's my duty to make you feel better."

"And _how_," Bobby snarled with unusual ferocity, "are you supposed to make me feel better after I just caused a man to commit suicide? _How are you supposed to do that, Eames?"_

The room was silent for a moment, save the scuffing sound of Alex's hands rubbing against Bobby's shirt.

Finally she said, "You've used that voice with criminals before, Bobby. I never thought you'd consider me one." Her voice was calculatedly cool.

Bobby put his head in his hands. "God, I'm sorry, Eames. I didn't mean to do that. But a back massage is just not going to cut it this time. I mean, I caused a man to kill himself. How could I have done that?"

Alex's hands moved up to his neck. "It wasn't your fault," she said, doing her best to console him. "We found antidepressants and alcohol in his apartment – he was on his way there anyway."

Bobby gestured towards a photocopy of the suicide letter on the table. "Eames, he specifically implicated me. He said I pushed him over the edge! _I caused an innocent man to kill himself!"_

Alex's fingers pressed soothingly against his temples. "He committed suicide because he was troubled, not because of you," she said. "He killed himself because he was a mentally unstable scientist who was troubled by the things he'd seen in Africa and the corruption of the government. It wasn't your fault at all."

Bobby was a bit comforted by Alex's insight and relaxed, leaning back in the chair. He felt almost like liquid. He had to admit, Alex did give very good massages.

Realization hit him. His eyes opened lazily. "Oh, that was smart."

"What was?" Alex asked innocently, her hands moving back to his shoulders.

Bobby shook his head, trying to clear away the hazy bubbles. "You trying to distract me from my guilt. That was very good."

"Y'know, it was working until you started thinking again. Maybe you should halt the perpetual movement of your brain for a bit and give in to relaxation, hm?"

Bobby pursed his lips and turned to face his partner. "Do you really believe I didn't push him over the edge?" he asked, more quietly than she'd ever heard him ask anything before.

Alex smiled a little and mussed her partner's hair. "Yeah," she said softly, "I really do." She took the suicide note off the table and tacked it up on the bulletin board behind her. "And I don't think your intuition's off, either," she added. "There was just probably something about this guy that caused you to instinctively dislike him."

She heard the chair scrape against the floor and turned back around. Bobby had stood up. "What is it?"

"Eames…" he said, looking at her, "you're a genius!"

"Yeah, I am. But why this time?"

His response was a quick kiss on her cheek and to dash out of the room, tearing the suicide note from the wall. "Get me a list of the people he's worked with in the last five years!" he called over his shoulder.

Alex sighed. "Never a dull day, eh, Bobby?" she muttered under her breath as she hurried after him.


End file.
